that we might get some satisfaction out of that region at last. We
were now, however, thirty-nine or forty miles from the water-place,
and two more from the Cob. I was most anxious on account of the water
at the Shoeing Camp; it might have become quite exhausted by this
time, and where on earth would Gibson and Jimmy go? The thermometer
again to-day stood at 106 degrees in the shade.

It was late at night when we reached the Cob tank, and all the water
that had accumulated since we left was scarcely a bucketful.

Though the sky was quite overcast, and rain threatened to fall nearly
all night, yet none whatever came. The three horses were huddled up
round the perfectly empty tank, having probably stood there all night.
I determined to try down the creek. One or two small branches enlarged
the channel; and in six or seven miles we saw an old native well,
which we scratched out with our hands; but it was perfectly dry. At
twelve miles another creek joined from some hills easterly, and
immediately below the junction the bed was filled with green rushes.
The shovel was at the Shoeing Camp, the bed was too stony to be dug
into with our hands. Below this again another and larger creek joined
from the east, or rather our creek ran into it. There were some large
holes in the new bed, but all were dry. We now followed up this new
channel eastwards, as our horses were very bad, and this was in the
direction of the home camp. We searched everywhere, up in hills and
gullies, and down into the creek again, but all without success, and
we had a waterless camp once more. The horses were now terribly bad,
they have had only the third of a bucket of water since Wednesday, it
being now Friday morning. We had still thirty miles to go to reach the
camp, and it was late when the poor unfortunate creatures dragged
themselves into it. Fortunately the day had been remarkably cool,